Never Let You Go
by Its-Lofty
Summary: In the middle of war, all Alfred and Matthew have are each other to lean on. But war is never pretty, and can take quite a toll on a person. Especially when one person is suddenly left alone.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia, the characters or anything in the story! I only own the story itself.

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><p>It was an unpleasant time to be countries. World War II was in full swing, the threat of bombing of cities ever present, the poison gas flowing across the battlefields.<p>

Yet Alfred F. Jones, aka The Unites States of America, was finding it strangely bearable, but that might have been because of who was fighting at his side (or rather, whose side he was fighting, because he'd arrived late to the battlefield). His 'ol' man' as he liked to joke, Arthur, the great and mighty United Kingdom , was performing his duties as a tactician admirably, and his northern neighbour (and discrete lover, Alfred thought with a small smile) Matthew, the Dominion of Canada was performing his duty as shock troops just as well.

But Alfred could tell the duties placed on Matthew's shoulders were beginning to take a toll on him. His eyes had dark circles under them, a telling sign of how little he'd slept from being on guard duty, trudging and sneaking through enemy lines at night to gather intelligence, down to his fitful nights of sleep from all the blood he'd spilled.

His clothes hung slightly looser on his frame than they should have (even if Matt was lean, he wasn't _that_ lean, and Al knew the muscle that hid under all those clothes-he'd stroked his fingers along them enough times), probably from his lack of eating, giving his rationed food to his fellow soldiers.

But Al could tell that Matt was still holding on with strength that no one else seemed to see, even now. Matthew stood straight beside him, his eyes flickering around, constantly taking in the surroundings of his post, determined to keep everyone safe from enemy soldiers that might attack this temporary camp. As Alfred let his bright blue eyes gloss over Matthew's lithe figure (all dirt covered, from his worn down boots to the top of his wavy shoulder length strawberry blonde hair), Matt's own sharp violet eyes landed on him and they softened minutely, his hand rising slightly as if to take Al's. At the last second, he caught himself, knowing how inappropriate it would look (relationships like theirs were not openly shown, and as such they both had to be careful) and so let his hand fall back to his side, although his eyes remained locked with Al's, who grinned that bright smile that could shirk away any grey clouds.

"He's sending me off towards Ortona soon, I think." Matt said, leaving the unspoken 'who' obvious to Al. Arthur was the only one that Matt would listen to when it came to war tactics.

Alfred just grinned and bounced on the balls of his feet, his blonde hair bouncing along with him, even as it was caked with mud and dirt.

"Yeah, when is that, a week? I think I'm headed up there, too. Can't do it without the hero, can you, Mattie?" Al grinned wider but winced as Matt sent a right hook to his shoulder that he just knew was going to leave a bruise, but Al knew that if Matt was really upset, he would have hit him in the face.

"Shut it! You know that we need snipers for a part of this mission. You know, quiet, stealthy...unobtrusive people? Kind of the opposite of you, eh?" Pouting at the words, Al just turned his back towards Matt, crossing his arms in what he hoped was the look of someone who was upset. Fortunately for Al it worked, because Matt finally made connection with him by lightly placing his hand on Al's shoulder, his soft voice instantly calming him.

"Aww, Al, you know I was only joking, right? C'mon, I can't do anything without my back-up." Al grinned and turned around, expecting to see a smile on Matt's face but was surprised, and more than a little confused to see no smile. In fact, Matthew wasn't even looking at Al; he was looking past him, and the look on his face was one of concern.

"...Matt? What's wrong? I'm not that upset about it-" Alfred was quickly cut off by Matthew's hand, which had cupped around his mouth, and for a brief moment, Al had the desire to lick it but he knew that something was wrong, so refrained. He was about to pull the hand off when suddenly three things happened at once: A loud bang rang through his ears, he felt s gust of wind brush across his face and lastly, he felt Matthew pull him down to the ground rather unceremoniously.

Recovering from the sudden influx of information to his brain, Alfred merely stared up at Matt who was looking around them frantically, gesturing to the soldiers around him and yelling orders; Matthew held the rank of Colonel in the army, something that others just couldn't believe someone so young could achieve.

But no one could deny that seeing him give orders and the way he increased moral was fitting of him. He deserved the rank he was given.

More shots rang out around them and it was obvious to see the enemy soldiers in the distance, huddled just behind a hill and taking aim at them. Matt quickly picked his own gun up from beside him and took aim, shooting off three shots, and Al was impressed to see that Matt's skill as a sniper was still amazing; three soldiers in the distance dropped like flies.

Matt wasted no time in jumping up and pulling Al from the ground and quickly making his way towards a group of ally soldiers who were claiming cover for them, shooting at the soldiers in the distance.

"What the hell? This place was supposed to be secure! Who the hell let enemies through?" Al heard one soldier yell as he and Matt approached the back of the ally guard, but quickly grabbed a gun from the ground when he noticed more enemy soldiers approaching off to the side of the camp, leaving a huge hole in their defence.

"Fall back, get into the forest! They'll have trouble following us, go, go, GO!" Matt shouted over the gunfire and took aim once again, cursing as one of the soldiers dodged his shot.

"Al what the fuck are you waiting for? GET MOVING!" Matt pushed Al briefly, attempting to get him to move towards the forest along with the final few soldiers who were still shooting alongside Matt, trying to give their fellow soldiers time to escape. Al grimaced and took aim again; casting Matt a side glance before pulling the trigger.

"You've gotta be kidding me! And leave you here? No, we get out of here together!" With that, Al grabbed Matt and pulled him to his feet roughly, and had the twisted amusement of hearing a very non-masculine squeal from Matt's mouth. Firing one last shot from his standing position, Al turned and pulled Matthew along, ensuring that he wouldn't try to stay behind and fight.

Al couldn't bear to see Matthew fighting alone. And so he was always determined to be with him, to fight alongside him, no matter the consequence.

Al pulled and pulled, running and directing him and Matt closer to the forest. They were so close, so close...when suddenly he heard Matt gasp and rip his hand out of Al's before once again pushing him to the ground. Again, the sound of a gunshot was heard, but this time he didn't feel it graze him in any way.

He looked up towards Matt, who had his back to him, standing just above him, one of his hands held out in front of him, small pistol in hand, the smoke twirling from the barrel.

Al chuckled. They'd reached the edge of the forest, and the remaining enemy soldiers were too far off to be much of a threat. Perhaps they'd run out of soldiers to send in, but for whatever reason, they were no longer approaching.

"Another close call, Matt?" Al watched as Matt lowered his arm holding the gun and let it fall to the ground. That's when Al realized there was something wrong. Matt would never drop his gun when there were still people to protect.

"...Matt? What's wrong?" Al watched as Matthew turned around, revealing his other hand clutched to his chest, looking at Al with a weak, apologetic smile. Removing the hand revealed a gaping wound, blood pouring steadily out of it, and Al noticed with muted shock that Matt's hand was covered in the sickly red stuff, and so was his mouth. Was he bleeding out of his mouth?

Al was moving before he realized he'd even gotten up; catching Matt as he fell to his knees, coughing on the blood that had started to clog his throat and dribble out of his mouth. Al was panicking, pressing his palm down to the wound, his mind moving a mile a minute, trying to comprehend what had happened, how this could happen, what was going to happen to Matt? They were nations, they couldn't die, they just couldn't. They were connected to their people, right? They just couldn't die.

But the truth was looking Al straight in the face, sitting in his arms. Matthew, blood streaming out of his mouth and down his chest, his coughing becoming weak and his eyes dulling. Al could feel the unshakeable sense of loss, seeing his lover dying in his arms...and he was powerless to stop it.

Tears started flowing down Al's cheeks as he felt Matt's hand reach up and stroke his cheek, leaving a trail of wet blood in place. Matt tried to speak, coughed, and attempted once more.

"...I'll be fine so...you just...get out of here...okay? Promise me...you'll-" Another cough, and Al was letting the tears flow as Matthew's hand fell to the ground lifelessly, his eyes glazed over, unseeing in every way.

And Al wailed, his loss overwhelming. He couldn't even comprehend the feeling of someone pulling on him, dragging him to his feet, ripping the corpse of Matthew out of his arms to get him to safety, and Al couldn't even fight him off, too consumed by grief over his realization that he could no longer hold Matthew, see those smiles that lit up his entire face, or run his hands through his long wavy hair and kiss those lips that fit his so perfectly.

Al couldn't tell if the tears would ever stop.

Two weeks later

Al hadn't spoken with anyone since he'd felt Matthew die in his arms. He'd almost gone back to find Matt's body but he was held back by the fear of seeing his corpse rotting away. He was worried for his country too. What would happen to a nation without a representative? Would the country suffer? If needed, Al was willing to help him...or rather his country in anyway. He wouldn't hand Canada over to anyone, ever.

It was with these thoughts that he was now travelling, heading back towards the encampment that Arthur was stationed at, intent on telling him of the loss of Matthew.

Al didn't know how he was managing to move without Matt around. He felt himself turning to the air beside him, expecting Matt to be beside him, grinning and holding out a towel. But Al knew that that was only his imagination, and that Matthew was never going to present his warmth to Al ever again.

Al felt a sudden sense of déjà vu before he watched as a soldier in front of him fell to his knees, blood pooling down his arm. Al immediately dropped to the ground, pulling out his gun and shooting as many soldiers as he could. After all, this was the side that'd killed Mattie, right? How could he sit back and let them, any of them get away with it?

So he took aim, over and over again, until he was sure that every one of the enemies was dead. Sighing, he lowered his gun and hung his head. This was not what Mattie would want. Mattie may have been one of the best snipers and his soldiers may have been the shock troops, but he wouldn't want to see more death like this. Running his hands through his hair, he froze as he heard the click of a gun behind him, and the feel of something cold placed against the back.

"Not so good now, are you, asshole?" Al held in his breath, thinking of ways to escape his predicament, when the image of a certain purple eyed nation swam in front of his eyes. He didn't know what happened to nations when they died, but maybe if...maybe if he died, he could be with Matthew again.

Slumping his shoulders in defeat, he merely growled under his breath, telling the man to get it over with.

"That's right buddy, you know you're a dead ma-" The sound of a gunshot rang out once again, and Al instinctively flinched, expecting the shot of pain, but it never came. He heard the thump of something falling behind him, and he turned to see the body of a soldier laying there, his head shot through. Glancing around and seeing no one, Al confusedly got to his feet, expecting someone to pop out from a bush and berate him for being stupid. What he wasn't expecting was what did happen.

"ALFRED MOTHERFUCKING JONES, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT." Whipping his head around, his eyes landed on a figure jumping down from a tree about 50 feet away, and quickly making his way over.

Al could only gape at the figure that made his way over to him, from the tall lithe frame, up to the strawberry blonde hair that was whipping around his face; one that, by the way was the image of pure fucking anger.

Al could only look on in pure bewilderment as Matthew Williams aka Canada rushed him and punched him square in the stomach, causing him to keel over from lost breath.

"I know all too well you could have killed that stupid guy in two seconds, so why the fuck didn't you? I don't get it, Al why the fu-" Matt was suddenly cut off by Al pulling him into a bone-crushing hug, his mouth moving and kissing any spot close enough to his mouth to reach. Tears were falling down his face, but he was smiling, his mouth babbling off words that Matthew had to strain to understand.

"Mattie you're alive oh god I thought you were dead- no you were dead I felt you die I held your body how could you still be alive?" Matt quickly silenced Al with a brief kiss to the lips, and Al tried to elongate it, holding him closer and groaning when Matt pulled away, yearning to just kiss Matt forever.

"Al...I did die, but it wasn't like...dying dying. All nations suffer the effects, we...sort of sleep when we get fatally injured. I thought you knew?" When Al just shook his head and clutched Matt tighter still, Matt sighed and stroked the back of his hair, humming slightly under his breath until Al released him, a giant grin on his face, one that Matthew mirrored, albeit slightly more subdued.

"But seriously Al, why the hell wouldn't you save yourself? I know you could if you wanted to."

Al looked down and held tightly to both of Matt's hands, stroking his wrists.

"I just wanted to be with you." Matt just stared at him for a moment before smiling and placing another brief kiss to Al's lips, grinning brightly.

"C'mon Al, face it. You're not going to be able to get rid of me that easily."

And later that night, when they both were settled into bed back at camp, Matthew asleep, clutching at Al's shirt, their legs intertwined, Al would remain awake, holding tightly to Matt, stroking one hand through Matt's hair and along his face, the thoughts "I'll never leave you again" flowing through his head like a mantra.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>...Please don't kill me...I haven't given up on To Be Clean, not at all! I'm just having trouble balancing fic writing and homework in college. xD But rest assured! I'm about 3/4 through chapter 2, and should be up soon!

So this was a story I wrote for the ever lovely Kie-chu! I'm very glad you enjoyed it, love!

And thank you all so much for your reviews, favourites and subscriptions to To Be Clean! I appreciate it so much.

Thank you for your patience. C=


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